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[Mrhappyface]

LLaPoB felt a tug in his gut. At first, he thought that was the after effects of the 12 Days of Caelian Festivity, but it was different. As if both a crisis has been averted and accelerated.
He knew. Calling together the Eagle Kings and the few Seraphine (one has lost his eyesight after eyeballing too much eggnog) into his chamber. Folding their wings and sitting themselves upon the armchairs of snow, they listened intently for it must be news truly dire.
"Gentlemen...Ermor has fallen."
Gasps errupted from the congregation and then devolved into arguing.
"The first empire!"
"Destroyed completely-"
"Truly it must be lies spread by their spies...
"-those foul magics like those loathsome Harabs!"
LLaPoB raised his hand and took a bite from his flaming Jaguar taco.
"SWILLENS!" he mumbled, and a sharp smell of ozone and flecks of cheesy meat permeated the frozen chamber.
"ETS TWOO! URMOAR HAS FALLN." He paused for a moment to wipe his mouth on his robe. "It's true, Ermor has fallen. We need to plan accordingly, and accelerate our research efforts." He waved his hand again, and the air and frost condensed into a miniature thundercloud. "But it won't be long now..."

[E. Albright]

The Seeker finally cornered Ctalou alone in the workshop beneath his tower after a tedious two days of stalking him throughout the city. The old mage did not look pleased when she slipped through the door, but nor did he rebuke her or chase her out. Glancing once more into the corridor to assure herself they were alone, she whispered the question she was charged with.

"Is it true? The human kingdom on the northern shore has fallen?"

Ctalou resumed working the coral before him. "It is," he croaked softly. "But it was not the Usurper's doing. You can tell the Council that I am sure of this. I have seen no further sign of He Who Shall Not Be Named."

The young Seeker hissed angrily. "You're sure? You sit in this dank pit of basalt, yet you're sure of what transpires half a world away? The Council will not accept that answer. We know He has risen. You would have us believe that the fall of ancient Ermor so soon after was coincidence?"

Ctalou heaved his shoulders in a dismissive gesture the Seeker knew well from her time beyond the shores. The old shambler was a strange one, even for a mage. He had not traveled as widely as some of the reef dwellers, but he was still sometimes shockingly human in his mannerisms. A quirk of his age, she supposed. She waited. After a few minutes more of tinkering with the unformed mass of coral on his worktable, he gave a croaking sigh, and spoke once more.

"It was a coincidence. I have read the entrails of a dozen sharks, and all were clear that He is not in the north. Ermor fell to hubris and the dragon-king of Yomi. Tell the Council I would - indeed, I do - stake my life on it. Tell them to keep their eyes fixed on the near enemy, and cease worrying about the Usurper. It was never His way to move so openly. Now go, and do not return this month. I have seen deep ones skulking about this district more and more this winter..."

The young Seeker made a quick bow and quickly departed the coral tower. The Council would not be pleased with his message, but that was not her problem. After a few moments' pause to be sure no agent of Church or crown was watching the gate of the King-in-waiting's cramped tower, she slipped out into the darkness and lost herself in the city.

[EuchreJack]

I miss un-AI empowered Lanka.

[Mrhappyface]

Classification: DECLASSIFIED
Codename: 9 Volt
Proposal:
Our researchers have been experimenting with the amplification and projection of electricity through the manipulation of highly ionized gas. We believe that we can recreate lightning that can strike both accurately and long distances.
Project Report:
Simply called the Lightning Bolt, this spell involves negatively ionizing a column of air approximately 30 meters above the target. This creates an artificial pathway for both positive ascending and negative descending ions from the air, allowing a strong current to be established that lasts several milliseconds.   It is not necessarily "true" lightning, but this spell recreates its destructive force quite effectively. Also, while this is not an elementary cantrip, this spell can be cast efficiently in conjunction with the spell "Storm Power", as the abundance of ionized air allows much material to work with...

[Mrhappyface]

Classification: DECLASSIFIED
Codename: Pinion
Proposal:
Our researchers have been experimenting with the application of air diamonds to lighten heavy loads. One theory is that this can be applied to armor that would otherwise restrict easy spellcasting.
Project Report:
Called the "Feather Scale" the armor works on similar principles to the research tool "Owl Quill". By cutting the diamond through bursts of heavy electrical current, the fragments are then woven in between the chain links of the armor after the initial forging. The weight has been proven to not only been successfully canceled by the application of the air gems,  but actually conferring some of its weightless properties to the wearer. It is nonetheless quite effective for spellcasting as it offer much more protection that a simple robe. However, the sudden increase in freedom of movement may be disconcerting at first and requires some training to become used to it. It has been noted that the armor has minimal usefulness upon mounted troops, as the armor does not confer its properties beyond its wearer.

These X-COMesque info blurbs are fun.

[Il Palazzo]

I can see Akhier is doing his Great Wall-mart of China routine again.

[Akhier the Dragon hearted]

   No, I can't do that with this age because it lacks the mage with all random magic picks. This is a similar but different tactic.

[Mrhappyface]

Happy Adventures in Jome!

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Characters

Abhijit the Atavi Chieftan.
Frenay the Eagle King
Xshayarshan the Eagle King

Abhijit knew that the bird-men from the province next over were doing something to the weather. It's been getting colder year round, and some of the other Atavi were whispering that they shouldn't have fled Kailasa. He was quick to remind them that would mean abuse from the Bandhar and having to be ruled over by the White Ones. No one, not even the Yavanas would make them leave their new home at Jome.
It was the middle of the month when they arrived. The snow still has not melted upon the ground when a group of those bird men landed. A terrified markata came to Abhijit while he was eating his breakfast of bananas and mangos.
"Me was eating banana when big birds come! Me was going throw poo-poo at the but scary! Pointy sticks and zap-boom!"
Abhijit raised an eyebrow. The Markata were known to be pathalogical liars to try and gain attention from the other monkeys, but even THEY knew not to raise false alarms. He dismissed the poor creature and mulled over the situation.
While the "big birds" were indeed terrifying, it was unlikely they had the number of troops necessary to fight them. Another thing that weighed in their factor was that unlike the Atavi or even humans, the Caelians had brittle bones and presented big targets for their arrows. Abhijit nodded. Yes, his archers would be the key to success in this battle. He hurried over to the central clearing of trees to rouse his small army.
***
Frenay and Xshayarshan have been waiting for this moment. It was shaming enough to have had their kingdoms destroyed by the Pantokrator, but the loss of knowledge was even more a grim reminder. Today though, it would change. They would once again remember their former glory beyond faded paintings and melting sculptures.
The scout hasn't exagerrated. Their foes were indeed monkeys with weapons.  The two Yazads have often wondered where they have diverged from in this great chain of creation. Perhaps, some minor deity have sought to emulate the works of the previous Great One and had only had some broken crayons and a bowl of crusty paint? No matter, they were close enough to their foes as to prove a purpose. Yes, a testing ground for their new might!
***

The Tempest Warriors and Spire Horn archers huddled together in their formation as the Atavi arrows flew in and struck the Caelians. A warrior went down, hit in the throat. An archer was struck down by a lucky headshot. The Spire Horn archers replied in kind, striking down many of those markata with their well placed shots.
One of Frenay's iceclad guards batted an arrow away from the Eagle King. Frenay was gesturing and chanting, paying no attention the projectiles. Right when the iceclad were going to enter the fray, Frenay crushed the diamond in his fist. An massive boom of sound echoed throughout the battlefield, and both the Caelians and the monkeys halted for a second. Where once was a blue sky was a swirling vortex of whites and greys. A heavy blizzard enveloped the battlefield, and the Atavi archers struggled to fire their bows. One more Caelian was shot down, but most of the arrows were blown off their mark to fall harmlessly into the snow.
Abhijit shouted and his macemen with the markata charged. Xshayarshan's hands cracked and fizzled as he manifested an orb of electricity above the charging, furred crowd. The electrical ball discharged, raining down  lightning that blackened and burned. The tempest guard gritted their teeth as some stray discharges shook their teeth and curled their feathers, but they stood firm and stabbed with their ice lances.
The Atavi broke first, knowing they had no chance in the face of such powerful sorceries. Abhijit  screamed in defiance and still stode defiantly onward with the few remaning markata. He ducked one lance and stabbed the Tempest Guard wielding it, punching clean through the ring mail and piercing the heart. The chieftan bared his teeth in the savage glee of hopeless glee one last time before being impaled upon the cold ice of the lances. The markatas lost all cohesion and attempted to flee the battlefield, but were torn to pieces by the canine phantoms summoned by the Eagle Kings. The last group of Atavi that were attempt to run suddenly stopped and looked upwards before they were disintergrated utterly by a masssive thunderbolt.
"A job...well done." proclaimed Frenay, looking over the blackened corpses of the battlefield. "Now...How about some cold ones! Drinks are on you Xshayarshan!"

[Il Palazzo]

-"RRRAAAGH!!! FIRRRE! KILL! GRAAA!!!" screamed Tovagrog.
-"O.k., stop it, stop it. I get what you mean." said Margrael. "Was that really how we used to do it?"
-"By all means, the recollections are quite vivid, my friend - hold on" the Burning One paused to dispatch another unnamed Hellheimian serf with a lazy swing of his morningstar "As I was saying, we seem to have done things differently back home."
-"Golly, by Jeff, you might be right. Must be something about the weather."
-"What, the unheat?"
-"Yeah, it makes us drowsy. And, I don't know, mellow." Margrael kicked aside charred remains of a huskarl, "And what's that white stuff anyway?"
-"Haven't you listened during the orientation meeting? It's why we're fighting this war. To stop its unchecked proliferation."
-"Dreadfull stuff. Makes everything look so... monochrome."
Across the battlefield, a squad of militia started to rout.
-"Oh, hey, what are these guys doing? Why are they running the wrong way?"
-"Maybe they forgot something, how should I know? That's that priest's bunch, aren't they?"
-"Yeah. Look how funny they look wading through the white stuff."
-"That was at least mildly racist. There's no reason to bellitle these folks just because they can't radiate heat..."
The conversation continued lazily throughout the day.

[Burnt Pies]

"So, what's on the agenda, then?" asked Supreme Overlord Jones.
"Well, there's the ongoing crushing of Lanka to the southeast, a few uppity peasants pissed off that we keep stealing their virgins, and, um, the completely unprovoked attacks from Abysia in the southwest." replied Silicara, his amazonian priestess.
"Let's start from the top then, what's going on in La-... Wait. Unprovoked attacks from Abysia? Are they being rude again? I hate personal attacks."
"Uhm, no. It's more legions of them marching across our lands, maiming and burning all the provincial defenders they could find."
"Oh. I don't suppose we've sent them a polite message asking them to stop?"
"Not yet, oh Lord. Our efforts so far have been devoted to... well... we haven't made any efforts yet."
"Well, let's sort that out, hey? First up, tell that chap we have stationed on the roof of wossname's palace to leave them a note asking them to stop, and then let's start martialling some defences."


"There is another issue, Lord. The opinion polls are in, and the majority of foreigners seem to agree that 'Supreme Overlord Jones' is a rather aggressive and worrying name."
"I know it is, damnit, but 'respects agreed upon borders and doesn't start unwarranted wars for no reason Jones' really doesn't have the same ring to it, however damn true it is."

"Say, what is wossname's name anyway?"
"Reports all say he calls himself Jeff, Lord."
"Oh. Do you remember if he had a son?"

[Akhier the Dragon hearted]

   The game has been hopping along. Glad to see that once we cleared up all the stalling the game became quite active again though I must admit I am sad to see its the only active game on Bay12 at the moment. Though technically 14 still alive even if its doing its best impression of Han Solo.

[E. Albright]

Spoiler: Intrigue! Controversy! Conflict! Fluff! (click to show/hide)

Her Holy Grace, Queen Xzadak Mi of Atlantis, Protector of Naerun, Mistress of the Basalt City, and Archmatron of Gnaghaut gik'Phell, sat silently in the shadows. The Seekers attending her hunched miserably at her side, wanting nothing but to be somewhere else. In the light at the center of the hall, the angry debate raged on as it had for the past ten hours, but the Queen had yet to move or make a sound. If she favored a side, she had yet to show it.

For the last hour, Matron Azatoth's retinue had the Coral Guard's delegation on the defensive. Their mistress herself croaked gutturally argument after argument, and brandished the scroll outlining Helheim's offer of alliance against the Burning Tide. The shambler officers, normally standing head and shoulders above their subordinates, looked dwarfed and intimidated before the ancient Matron. Captain Ilek, the group's leader, cringed openly when she ended a tirade about the untrustworthy nature of Abyssians by cracking the council table beneath her clawed fist. Ponderously pushing herself to her feet, she flared a word that even the ichtyid lieutenants lurking by the room's door recognized as contempt. The hulking Matron flared something less comprehensible, and gurgled a dismissal. Atlantis would not ally itself with fire demons led by a nameless thing from beyond. No, the Azure Banner would flow south, and the disrespectful flamelings would drown beneath it.

As Azatoth turned towards the alcove holding the Queen's improvised throne, a resounding crack sounded through the hall. All eyes turned to the chamber door, where a spare figure in coral armor leaned heavily on the glaive he'd crashed down into the cobblestone floor. The Lord-Commander of the Coral Guard, still flecked with the road's mud and dripping from the storm raging outside, looked squarely at Azatoth, and then brazenly fixed his gaze on the shadows cloaking his Queen.

"Your Holy Grace, My Lady speaks freely of unholy menaces, of heresies festering far beyond the shores, and of disrespectful mouthbreathers who must be brought to the Truth. But I would ask her, if I might, why she would name the Abyssians our enemy? Why she would say that we should thrust spear and claw into their flanks when they have keep faith with us for years? And above all, Your Holy Grace, I would ask why she would name the Jaffian demons disrespectful, when their only such sin is the impertinence of youth?"

The interrupted Matron flared something unspeakable, straightened her spine, and gathered herself to chastise the intemperate shallow one when a light flashed from the shadows behind her. The Queen was sitting forward, leaning almost into the torchlight. She made a gesture to Lord Githu, and croaked out a single word: "Explain."

"Your Holy Grace, it is true that the demons have been brash and demanding in treating with us - they more even that the muckdwellers live lives too short to learn manners. They have no reverence for their elders, and know nothing of Truth or Balance. But though they brashly parley with us as equals, still they are better than the savages of Hel." Azatoth flared angrily, but the shambler continued. "Your Holy Grace, we have exchanged missives with the Abyssians, we have ecked out borders, and we have made pacts of peace and friendship. They have given us nothing but their word and their trust, but they have likewise asked nothing of us. Now when the shadow reavers attack them" - the priests in the room hissed angrily as one, but the impassioned shambler did not pause - "now, My Lady would have us break our word and invade their lands. And why? Why, My Lady? Because a pack of shimmering mouthbreathers - who turned out our envoys unheard when we sent them in years past seeking assurances of peace and fixed borders - suddenly discover diplomacy, that they might claim to have been attacked and order us to turn our spears on our allies. Had they the Abyssians' lifespan such manners might be expected, but from an elder race..."

Matron Azatoth flared lividly and straightened her spine with a rumble. Again, a flare from the shadows stopped her. The hall fell silent for several minutes as the hulking deep ones carried out a silent conversation in flashes and gestures too fast and complex to be followed. Finally, the Queen sank back into the darkness, and her subordinate turned to address the chamber. With only a brief glare spared for her rival, she brusquely instructed the gathered leaders to make ready. Hel would pay for its insolence and aggression.

[Il Palazzo]

-"A missive from Mr Jones! A missive!" cried the chancellor bursting into Jeff's office.
-"GIVE IT TO ME RIGHT NOW!" shouted the Divine sage, knocking down his chair as he rose.
But it was too late. A handful of ashes, pleasantly aglow with the last of flickering flames was all that remained of what might once have been an exquisite scroll. No doubt bearing important news. "Thank you." Jeff's voice was more resigned than sarcastic. "That'll be what, fifth this month? Perhaps you could run a tiny bit faster next time?"
-"But M'lord! The faster I run the faster it burns."
-"Hmm. Perhaps you could try walking slowly?" pondered the god.
-"We've tried that already. Didn't work."
-"Damn. Wait, maybe the emissary knows what was in it?"
-"It might be difficult to find out. He died of heatstroke in our guest chambers."
-"Oh, for the love of me! We really need to figure out how to solve this issue. My fantastic powers of diplomacy will go to waste if I won't be able to talk with anyone but the fishmen."
-"About that, here's a note from the Big Fish. Just arrived." said the chancellor handing over a coral tablet, a bit charred at the edges.
-"Now that's technology, if you ask me. That's the problem solving attitude. That's the engineering spirit." mused the Lord of Abysia as he scanned the lines carved into the tablet. "Very good. Everything appears to be in order. Get me the Atlantean emissary, I want him to carry a message for me."
-"Eh, M'lord, it might be difficult. He died..."
-"...of heatstroke?" sighed Jeff. "We really need to build some accomodations for these guys."
For the time being, the sage decided to turn his mind to more immediate matters: "So, what's for supper?"
-"Huskarl&horse casserolle and fried fish."
-"Well, that's at least one bright side to it all right there."

[Jarod Cain]

The High Priest of the Sun was worried as he climbed the steps up the Great Pyramid. While the other nations of the world encroached on his own small nation, the continual sacrifices had done nothing more than extend the dominion of his master. As he knelt before the bloody altar and his attendants brought forth a sacrifice he prayed for a sign. When the heart upon the brazier's coals he received the answer he sought. Immediately the smoke from the heart filled the room with darkness and he heard a deep rumbling growl. Blinking, there was a shifting of a great weight before him and he dropped to his knees.

"Speak your name priest." Commanded a dry voice.

"Omacatl Lord Cain! Your servant!"

"My servant you are, but Cain I am not. He has sent me to you as herald, seer and prophet. I am to prepare these lands to receive Him."

The priest immediately prostrated himself on the floor. "Your commands are His great Lord! How shall we know you?"

He felt another great shifting before him and then was blinded by dazzling light that swept away the darkness. "Raise your eyes and gaze upon me. I am called Bhudev and will be from this point on, your master."

Omacatl looked up and blinked taking a moment to get used to the light and gasped. Before him curled around the altar sat a great Serpent of the Sun.
-J-

[EuchreJack]

Neighbors of the double A alliance beware!  Quite a dangerous alliance, that should be squashed before it divides the world between them.

Il Palazzo, famous winner of all but one Dom3 game on this forum.

E. Albright, that guy that actually defeated Il Palazzo.

Beware!